


Winter Things

by wherehopelies



Series: Seasons of Love [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Kisses, F/F, New Years Eve, So much kissing, Starbucks, angst??????? we don't know her, baths, chacie being chacie, classic, fluff only, implied sexi times, in fact we don't even know what a conflict is, looking at christmas lights, this is basically a self-indulgent project in which i give myself everything i ever wanted, winter themed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: “'Emily, she loves you. She comes to our shitty Starbucks every day just to see you. Every time she looks at you, she’s like, starstruck. She put this song on her Spotify and Tweeted about it. '”Emily blushes and Chloe laughs. “'It’s sweet.'”OR: Winter-themed coffee shop au. (Sequel to fall-fic)
Relationships: Emily Junk/Beca Mitchell
Series: Seasons of Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101899
Comments: 15
Kudos: 96





	Winter Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moxiemorton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxiemorton/gifts).



> for mo as always, but also for me. i love self-indulgence

“Peppermint mocha for Adam!”

Emily smiles to herself as she grinds the beans for fresh coffee. Holiday season is her favorite time at work. Everything is red and green, people tip way better, and there’s just something about the holidays that makes everything feel a little more magical. 

Starbucks Christmas, she thinks as she presses the button to brew the coffee. She loves it.

“Hey,” says a familiar voice from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

She spins around, her smile widening. “Hey! Beca.”

“Hi,” Beca smiles. It’s small and private, just for Emily. It makes Emily’s heart fall into her stomach.

It’s torture, Emily thinks, when your girlfriend smiles at you like that and you can’t kiss her because you’re at work.

Especially when your girlfriend is so pretty and kissable.

“Happy December!” Emily says, mostly because she knows Beca will roll her eyes and it will take Emily’s mind off the kissing.

Beca does, in fact, roll her eyes. It doesn’t really take Emily’s mind off the kissing, though. “Yeah, happy December, I guess. Been Christmas in here for a month already, though, so it’s not much different, is it?”

Emily hums, still trying not to look at Beca’s lips. She fails spectacularly. “But doesn’t it make you feel a little better about it?”

“Maybe.” Beca glances toward the end of the bar where Stacie’s making a drink and chatting up a customer. Her eyes settle back on Emily, a knowing smile on her lips. “Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“No, I’m having a really good customer connection right now.” Beca snorts, but her cheeks are a pleasantly perfect pink. Emily loves it. “So, are you gonna order or did you just come here to see me?”

“Neither,” Beca deadpans. “Came here to see Chloe, obviously. She around?”

Emily jerks her head toward the back. “She’s back there, but I can assure you I can help you with whatever you need, ma’am.”

Beca grimaces. “Ma’am. Ew, Em.” Emily laughs. “Well, then I guess I’ll have a cold brew. Black.”

“Mmm,” Emily nods. “Switching it up. Nice.”

“Wouldn’t want the people around here to get any kind of impression about me,” Beca says seriously. “Then they might start crushing on me and it’d make getting coffee super awkward.”

“Huh,” Emily says, equally serious. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

They stare at each other for a prolonged moment before Beca breaks, lips twisting to hold back a smile as she looks away. Emily, for what it’s worth, beams. Making Beca smile is one of her recently discovered passions.

“Okay,” Emily says, seeing another customer walk through the door toward the register. “Cold brew black. On the house.”

Beca groans. “Dude, you gotta stop that. I know Aubrey will murder you if she finds out you’re giving it to me free every day.”

“It’s my free beverage, Bec, it’s fine. And Aubrey will do no such thing,” Emily tsks. “Aubrey loves me.”

“Everyone loves you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Emily raises a teasing eyebrow. “Everyone, huh?”

“Oh my God. Goodbye.” Beca moves to walk away, but hesitates. “You still wanna come over after your shift?”

Emily grimaces. “Shoot, you know, I actually promised my girlfriend that I’d go to her place. Raincheck, though?”

Beca stares at her. “You’re too cute to be sassy, it’s not right.”

Emily grins, turning her attention to the next customer. “Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get for you today?”

Beca rolls her eyes and turns away, but Emily catches her smile. Right after she helps the customer, she beelines toward the handoff counter before Beca can leave.

“Hey, move it or lose it,” Stacie huffs at her as Emily snatches the cold brew from her hand and nudges her out of the way.

She holds it out to Beca, keeping her fingers wrapped around it as Beca grabs it. “You  _ will _ see me after, by the way. Just in case that wasn’t clear.”

“No, yeah,” Beca’s lips twitch. “I managed to pick that up.”

“Okay, good, because I, uh... can’t wait.” She blushes, furiously, and finally releases the cold brew to Beca. 

Stacie snorts. “Well, unfortunately you’re gonna have to. Still got four hours left of this shift, Sweet Cheeks. Now move.”

She pushes Emily out of the way. “I got an eggnog latte for Janet and a pleasant  _ goodbye _ for Beca!” Beca laughs at that and Stacie hums, pleased. “Oh, she liked that one. But for real, goodbye Beca. Some of us have coffee to brew.”

She gives Emily a pointed look and Emily pouts. 

Beca offers a wave. “Okay, point made. Bye, then. And I will, uh, see you later, I guess.” She gives Emily another smile and leaves.

“Ugh, finally,” Stacie says as Beca and the other customer leave the store. She leans against the bar and crosses her arms. “You are so disgusting when she’s here. Like some lovesick puppy.”

Emily strides back to the coffee brewer, grabbing the cube where they keep the coffee beans. “I am not.”

Chloe strolls out of the back, tying her apron around her waist as she walks. “Not what?”

“Um, in love with Beca,” Stacie says with her eyebrows raised. “And yes you are.”

“Aw,” Chloe beams. “It’s cute. The last time you were like this with someone was with Spencer and…” She and Stacie both scowl. “Ugh. Spencer.”

Emily throws her hands up in exasperation. “He was my first love and I was literally seventeen! Why do we always go back to Spencer?!”

“Because he was an ass,” Chloe says at the time Stacie says, “Because he was a douche.”

They point at each other. “Ooh, nice, babe,” Chloe grins. “But for real, because you were like,  _ so _ in love with him and he was a total jerk who broke your heart like five times.”

“Okay, well!” Emily huffs. “That was like, a million years ago and this is different! I’m different.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Stacie nods.

“For sure,” Chloe agrees. “Just, you know. It’s nice to see you acting like a teen again.”

“I’m not,” Emily grumbles.

Stacie grabs a sticker from the mobile order machine that had just printed. She snorts as she places it on the cup. “Yeah you are. Who cares? Everyone gets all gushy like that if the sex is good enough.”

Emily blanches. “Stacie.”

“I’m just saying. There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with it. And you’re right! It doesn’t mean you’re in love.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in love, either,” Chloe chimes in. “Both are totally great.”

“Must you both torture me all the time,” Emily mutters, dumping the coffee beans in the grinder. “Nobody said anything about mind-blowing sex  _ or _ love.”

Stacie nods thoughtfully. “Good point, so which is it?”

“Love obviously,” says Chloe.

“No way,” Stacie argues. “Those were  _ bedroom _ eyes. You weren’t here to see. It was nearly a freaking booty call the way she asked Emily to come over after her shift.”

“I hate this so much,” Emily whispers to herself as Chloe opens her mouth to respond. She hits the switch on the machine, the loud grinding of the coffee beans drowning out her embarrassing best friends. 

She hopes for some kind of mercy when she turns the machine off, but --

“I’m just  _ saying _ that love and orgasms aren’t mutually exclusive!”

Emily groans and pulls out her phone to check how long she has left in her shift. She frowns when she sees it’s still basically four hours, but then a text notification from Beca pops up. She opens it ASAP.

**Beca:** I can’t wait either btw. In case that wasn’t clear

Four more hours, Emily thinks, drowning out Stacie and Chloe’s embarrassing bickering. Four more hours.

//

Emily  _ is _ actually in love, just not with Beca.

_ (Well maybe -- ?) _

She’s in love with Beca’s house.

The thing about Beca is that Emily has a hard time believing she’s actually famous. Her girlfriend is just so chill, so mellow, so completely down-to-Earth and aloof. Emily’s interacted with many celebrities, and no matter how un-celebritylike they are, they fall short compared to Beca. 

That’s what Emily thought, anyway.

Then she saw Beca’s house.

Beca’s house is like if Emily picked all her fantasies from  _ Emily’s Dream House Wish List _ and combined them in one place, a mile from the beach.

Hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows. Granite counters and updated appliances in the kitchen. A fireplace in the family room, right next to a massive couch. An in-home recording studio. A king-sized bed in Beca’s bedroom. A walk-in closet and modern bathroom.

And, Emily’s favorite part, the bathtub.

A jacuzzi, really. Detached from the shower. Big enough to sit multiple people comfortably. With  _ jets _ . The perfect place to soak after she’s been on her feet for eight hours, warm water and bubbles and delightfully-scented bath oils all around her.

God, she loves Beca’s bath.

“God, I love your bath.”

Beca laughs and the sound warms Emily more than the water. Beca’s laugh kind of drives Emily crazy, like, in a good way. It always comes out so fast, like Beca’s caught off-guard, like she takes so much unexpected joy in Emily. 

“I know,” Beca says from her side of the tub, that laugh still in her voice. “Funny how I never even used this bath in the two and a half years I’ve lived here and somehow I’ve used it three times in the month we’ve been dating.”

Emily hums happily. “I truly don’t know why. If I had a bath like this, you’d never get me out of it.”

Beca snorts. “I’m starting to think you only like me for the bath.”

Emily flutters her eyes open to see Beca raising an eyebrow at her. She’s sunk down so only her head is above the water, her chin skimming the layer of bubbles on top.

“Oh, come on,” Emily says. “There’s also that fireplace downstairs. Another very nice reason.”

“Wow,” Beca huffs as Emily laughs. “Okay, understood.”

Emily lifts her foot out of the water and touches Beca in the cheek with her big toe. “And you’re drop-dead gorgeous, so. Arm candy.”

Beca swats her away, laughing. It makes Emily’s entire body heat up. She reaches across the tub and grabs Beca, the water sloshing up the slides of the tub as Beca lets herself be dragged toward Emily’s side. Emily pulls Beca between her legs, to her chest, back to front.

She settles her chin on Beca’s shoulder, marveling at how Beca fits against her, soft and skin-warm, and presses her nose into Beca’s neck. She loves how Beca smells like lavender from the bath oils.

“I liked you before I knew about the bath. That’s just facts.”

Beca chuckles, relaxing back against Emily’s front. “It’s a pretty nice bath, isn’t it?”

“The best.” She places a kiss where Beca’s shoulder meets her neck. “Are you comfy?”

“Mhmm,” Beca hums, tilting her neck when Emily kisses her again. She slides her hands down the length of Emily’s arms until she can tangle their fingers together on her stomach. 

Emily grins, using their joined hands to scoop up a bunch of bubbles. She lifts them to Beca’s chin, her stomach shaking with laughter. “Ho ho ho.”

“You calling me a ho? Real original.”

“You’re Santa, obviously.” It’s then that Emily blinks, hard, as she realizes something. “Hey, when are you gonna decorate?”

Beca pauses. “Decorate?”

“Yeah,” Emily says. “Like for Christmas. It’s December.”

“Oh.” Beca shrugs. “Uh, I don’t really have any decorations, I dunno.”

Emily pulls an inch away from Beca’s neck. Beca turns to look at her curiously. “What! Beca, it’s Christmas!”

Beca scrunches her nose. “I know, but it’s like, sunny? And it’s just me here. Not really worth it.”

Emily gapes. “Not even lights?”

“I don’t have any and I don’t even know how to do that.”

“Oh my God.” Emily’s body is practically vibrating. “I’m gonna decorate for you, this is unacceptable. Lights  _ at least _ . I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Beca snorts. “Dude, you can’t put lights up by yourself.”

“Um, yes I  _ can _ . I’ve done it at our house for the past four years!”

Beca’s expression turns skeptical. “Like on the roof?”

“Like yes.”

“How?”

“I have a ladder!”

Beca frowns. “It just seems like a lot of work.”

“Come on,” Emily whines. “So worth it, though. Okay, at  _ least _ a tree.”

“I thought it was  _ at least _ lights.”

“ _ Beca _ .”

When Beca laughs, her whole body shakes, causing little waves to lap over Emily’s shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were so passionate about it.”

“It’s the best time of the year!” Emily hides her pout in Beca’s neck. “Don’t you think?”

“I mean, I guess.” Beca gives Emily’s hands a squeeze. “It’s just that I grew up in the Northeast where it  _ actually _ snows. Here it just doesn’t really feel like Christmas, you know?”

“That,” Emily explains. “Is because you’re doing it wrong. That’s why you have to decorate! To, I don’t know, like, invoke the Christmas spirit.”

Beca turns her head to shoot Emily a soft smile. “Oh, I see. I guess I just didn’t think I would have to  _ invoke _ something supposedly so magical.”

Emily grunts. “Okay, tell me now before I’m in too deep.” She looks Beca in the eyes. “Are you a Grinch or something? If you are, this is really not gonna work out, so you need to say no because I  _ really _ kind of want this to work out.”

Beca softens, her eyes widening slightly at Emily’s words. Her teeth bite over her lips and she inhales like she’s going to say something, but she shakes her head instead.

After the barest beat of time, she chuckles. “I’m not a Grinch. It’s just sixty-five degrees and sunny out for the entire month. It’s not even winter. There wasn’t even fall!”

“Well,” Emily argues. “We did a bunch of fall things together without there being, as you say, fall. So by that logic, we could do a bunch of winter things without it being winter. Decorating could be one of them.”

“Without snow?”

“We don’t need snow! We just need a good attitude and no Grinchy-spirit bringing us down.”

Beca looks at her for a long moment, eyebrows furrowed cutely. Finally, her lips quirk upward in a tiny smile. “Well, alright.”

Emily beams. “Alright? Really?”

“I mean… Not like anything crazy, right?”

Emily hugs Beca to her, squeezing tight, and Beca grunts. “Nothing crazy, swear! Just like, lights. And a tree,  _ obviously _ . And maybe a few small other things.  _ But _ ,” she’s quick to say at Beca’s uneasy expression. “Nothing crazy. Promise!”

Beca sighs, resigned, and relaxes back into Emily. “Okay,” she says, closing her eyes.

“Okay? That’s it. Just like that?”

“Mhmm.”

“That was easy.”

Beca snorts. “The bath is making me mellow. Quit while you’re ahead.”

“It  _ is _ a pretty great bath, right?”

“Yeah, pretty great,” Beca agrees, her fingers slipping under the water to rest on Emily’s bare thighs. She leans her head back on Emily’s shoulder, lolling it to the side to give her a smile. The dimmed bathroom lights make her eyes look especially blue, her features soft and pretty.

Emily’s heart skips a beat.

She nuzzles her nose against Beca’s and brushes their lips together, once, twice, three times. Sighing happily, Emily closes her eyes, revelling in this moment -- Beca’s full weight against hers, their bodies pressed together, so warm and soft and perfect.

God, she thinks for the thousandth time. She loves Beca’s bath.

//

“Are you sure you don’t want help?”

“Yeah, I told you I got this!”

“I know, but…” Beca’s voice floats up to her, tinged with worry and uncertainty, and Emily has to bite her lip around a smile.

She plants a hand on the roof and cranes her neck to look down. “What? You worried about me?” She teases.

Beca flings her arms in the air. “Yes! Can you -- stop looking at me! Face the house. No -- Emily! Turn back around! You’re going to fall.”

Emily chuckles but complies. “Babe. I’m good, swear. You can go do your work.”

She can practically feel Beca hesitating. “Yeah… no, yeah. I think I’ll just… I mean. I’m gonna sit here on the porch and do it.”

“What,” Emily rolls her eyes. “Don’t trust me?”

“That’s not --” Beca lets out a long breath, audible to Emily even from above. “I mean, just in case.”

Emily shrugs, her attention back on the string of lights. “Okay, I’m just saying, it’s not necessary.”

Beca lingers for another moment before turning and going back inside. Emily thinks, with surprise, that Beca must have taken her word for it, but she’s back just a minute later, headphones around her neck and laptop under her arm. She plops down on the front steps with a stubborn finality that Emily has to laugh at. Emily focuses back on what she’s doing with a smile on her face, happy to have a project to do and Beca so close.

That morning, her resolve to decorate Beca’s house hit her in full force. She’d woken up early in Beca’s giant bed and rolled over to find Beca still sleeping. She’d stared at her girlfriend for a moment, soaking in that day-off peace that always washes over her, even more prominent now when she got to wake up next to Beca. But then she started to get antsy, her body used to being up and working by that time of the day, until she couldn’t take it anymore. After making a pot of coffee and texting Beca that she’d be back soon, she’d wasted little time in running to the store, stocking up on lights and tinsel and other decorations. 

She had already made a lot of headway on the lights when Beca had finally realized she was working outside and poked her head out the door, nearly shrieking when she saw Emily up on the ladder.

That had been twenty minutes ago and Beca hasn’t left her alone since, spewing things about ladder safety and concussions and broken bones and etc etc. 

Emily doesn’t mind. She thinks it’s kind of sweet.

But really, she’s fine.

She hums to herself while she works, enjoying the strain in her arms and the excuse to not do her final paper. Sometimes, she glances down at Beca out of the corner of her eye, unable to help herself. She likes the way the midday sun looks on Beca’s face, her lips twisted as she stares at her computer. The way her shirt hangs off her shoulders, loose and comfy. The way she sometimes catches Beca staring at her, expression soft and then shy when she realizes Emily totally saw her checking her out.

It makes her heart flutter and her stomach twist and her chest clench tight.

And, she thinks, yeah, maybe Stacie and Chloe are right, just a little bit. Maybe she does feel like a teen again, giddy and infatuated and lovestruck.

But come on! She’s twenty-four and she’s in love with her life! With her studies and her job and her friends.

And maybe with Beca, she thinks, eyes sliding down once again as Beca stretches, her shirt riding up to show the barest slice of midriff.

The possibility makes her dizzy and she clutches the ladder for support, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath.

“You good?” Beca stands up and takes a step closer, her hands restlessly hovering beside the ladder. 

“Yeah,” Emily calls down, not wanting Beca to fret over her but kind of liking it a little bit, too. “I’m great.”

//

Emily sighs as she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. 

She loves her job and she loves Starbucks, but her grandmother’s candy cane hot chocolate recipe? It’s better.

She sets her mug on the coffee table and grabs another ornament. Then she appraises the tree and carefully chooses the perfect spot to hang the ornament, hooking it over a branch.

“It is kind of nice, I guess,” Beca says from behind her. 

Emily takes a step back to admire the tree so far. It’s fake, but it’s still pretty, all lit up and tinselfied next to the fireplace, which Beca had turned on for the occasion. She also dimmed the lights (because, yeah, she has  _ that _ kind of fancy house) and the entire room feels cozy and soft.

Just like Christmas is supposed to feel.

“Yeah,” Emily agrees, turning to look at Beca over on the couch. “Finally starting to feel like Christmas in here. You’re welcome.”

Beca snorts. “I mean… does it, though? It's just... it's still so sunny and hot. Like, you’re in shorts. Who wears shorts during Christmas? And not even regular shorts. The tiniest fucking shorts I’ve ever seen.”

Emily laughs, tugging on the end of her t-shirt, which is indeed, longer than her shorts. “I’m not wearing these because it’s hot out, Beca.”

Beca furrows her eyebrows, her lips twisting in confusion. Then realization seems to dawn on her and her eyes widen, her gaze flicking down to Emily’s legs. “Oh.” 

Emily watches in amusement as Beca glances away from her, cheeks pinking. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, puts it down, taps her hands on her legs, fidgets in her seat.

Finally, Emily takes pity on her and walks over. She crawls on the couch, knees on either side of Beca’s legs, and settles in Beca’s lap. Beca’s arms immediately swoop around her waist, holding her so she doesn’t slide off. Emily brings her hands up to rest on Beca’s collarbones, loving how Beca’s all soft edges and warm skin.

Beca meets her gaze for a moment before she gets flustered and looks away, teeth biting over her lower lip. Emily loves it. Is living for it.

Feels drunk on it almost.

“Thank you,” Beca says suddenly. She looks back at Emily, her posture relaxing under Emily’s palms. “For doing all this today. It was, like, a shit ton of work and…” Beca shrugs. “Just thanks.”

“Thanks for letting me do it,” Emily counters. “I know I can be a lot. Especially because we really haven’t been together that long. So um… yeah. Thank  _ you _ .”

“No,” Beca frowns. “I mean. I like it. How you are.”

Emily’s lips twitch. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Well, I like you, too.”

She leans in closer, nuzzling her nose against Beca’s, revelling in this feeling, the warm joy of having the super cool, talented, beautiful girl she likes liking her back. God, it’s so good. 

Her entire body buzzes when Beca kisses her, soft and slow. One of her hands leaves its place around Emily’s waist, sliding around her back and over her thighs. Her hand is warm against Emily’s skin.

“I do,” Beca murmurs, her lips barely leaving Emily’s, “like the shorts.”

“You mean you like my legs in the shorts,” Emily laughs.

Beca makes a sound in her throat, a complaint and an agreement in one. “ _ Emily _ .”

Emily grins, kissing Beca again. “You taste like peppermint hot chocolate right now,” she says in between kisses. 

“Is that… a good thing?”

“Yeah, a great thing. It tastes like Christmas.”

“Oh, okay.” 

The arm around Emily’s waist tightens, pulling Emily more firmly on Beca’s lap as Beca brings their lips back together. Emily hums, a familiar warmth bubbling up in her stomach as she teases her tongue into Beca’s mouth, their kisses turning quicker and sloppier. The hand on Emily’s leg slides a few inches up, wandering under her shorts and stopping just shy of her underwear. 

Emily chuckles, inhaling sharply. “You know I can’t stay tonight, right?”

Beca makes a sound of disapproval, her fingers pressing hotly into Emily’s skin under her shorts. “Why not?”

“I work at five.”

“So?”

“In the morning.”

Beca kisses her again. “Yeah, I know in the morning. So what?”

“Well, you live further away so I’d have to get up earlier.”

Beca snorts. “By like, eight minutes.”

“Okay, well. I have to sleep. And so do you. I know you didn’t get any work done today.”

“I did too.”

“Beca.”

Beca huffs. “Well. How could I work with you giving me a heart attack climbing all over the roof like that?”

“I didn’t even go on the actual roof.”

“Still.” Beca leans back, giving her a mischievous smile. “Ditch work. Just once.”

Emily’s mouth falls open. “Oh my God, no.”

“Why not? You know you want to.”

“It doesn’t matter if I want to. I’m not going to.” 

“Hmph.” Beca pouts, her fingers sliding further up Emily’s shorts and slipping under the elastic of her underwear. “Fine.”

Emily chuckles, pressing her lips against Beca’s forehead. “Wow, that was too easy.”

Beca sighs. “Yeah, I knew you weren’t gonna ditch, but I thought maybe a miracle would happen anyway.”

“Come visit me when you get up,” Emily says.

“At work?”

“Yes, at work.”

Beca grunts. “Ugh, no. It’s too hard. Every time I go in there you look at me like…” Beca’s skin warms and she trails off.

“Like I want to kiss you? Because it’s literally all I can think about.”

“Dude. Keep it in your pants,” Beca says, as if she doesn’t literally have a hand up Emily’s pants right this second.

Emily laughs so hard both their bodies shake with it and Beca smiles, pleased with herself. She looks like she wants to say something, her mouth opening barely before she shuts it again.

Instead, she leans in, kissing her way from Emily’s jaw, down her neck, under the collar of her shirt. 

Emily hums, feeling heat in her chest, her stomach, everywhere. She shifts on Beca’s lap, trying to get closer, to feel Beca more solidly against her, warm and soft and wanting.

“I can’t stay over tonight,” she reminds Beca. Her fingers slip under the neckline of Beca’s shirt anyway, scratching gently.

“Okay,” Beca says, her nose dragging across Emily’s skin, her lips at Emily’s collarbone.

Emily’s whole body burns. She involuntarily presses herself down on Beca’s lap, looking for relief and friction and -- “I can’t stay over,” she says to herself.

“Mhmm,” Beca hums, her fingers slipping further in Emily’s underwear, teasing and close and --

Emily clenches her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. “I can’t stay,” she says to whichever of them has more self control. 

Beca says nothing because Emily’s pushing at her shoulder, shifting them on the couch so they’re laying down. She hovers over Beca, one palm pressed to the couch next to Beca’s head, the other drifting up under Beca’s shirt, over her stomach, her cleavage. 

Beca’s fingers slipped out of her underwear when Emily changed their position, but they’re still in her shorts, and she slides them over Emily’s front, light and feathery and teasing.

Emily bites her lip. “I can’t stay,” she says again, like if she says it enough times, she can make it happen.

“Okay,” Beca says, lips twitching like she doesn’t believe Emily at all. 

Emily’s doesn’t believe herself, either. 

“I’ll set an alarm,” she says after a beat, and presses herself against Beca’s fingers, her heart pounding, her nose nuzzling Beca’s. 

Beca laughs. “Wake me up when you leave.”

“No way.”

“Fine, then I’ll come visit you.” Beca’s free hand comes up around her neck and pulls her closer, their lips brushing. “And you can think of me kissing you like this, and how I taste like Christmas.”

Emily groans. “Is this payback for the shorts? For being on the roof? For what? Just tell me.”

“For nothing,” Beca chuckles. “This is a thank you for the decorations. And because I like you so much.”

It’s like a thousand fireworks in her chest, like eating pop rocks, like drinking six shots of espresso in one go. How good it feels to be liked back by the person you like so much. 

Emily’s swept up in it, she can’t stop it. She exhales shakily against Beca’s lips, letting it crash over her, wanting so much more than she can put to words. 

She feels seventeen and giddy and out of control and she likes it. She can’t help it. She’s falling and she knows it.

She doesn’t want to stop.

//

Emily’s moving on autopilot. 

Pour milk. Steam milk. Queue the espresso shots. Pour foam. Latte! 

“I’ve got a latte for Michael!”

Smile and hand it off. 

“Have a good day!”

The annoying thing about the day is that she’s tired, exhausted from staying up later than usual and getting up earlier than usual. Unfortunately, though, they’re busy and short-staffed so despite that, she’s doing what she always tries to avoid:

Barring with Stacie.

It’s not that she’s bad at it.  _ Really _ . She’s been a barista for the better part of seven years now. She knows what she’s doing!

It’s just that she gets flustered and overwhelmed, especially next to Stacie, then you throw in the fact that she’s clumsy and doesn’t do this anymore on the daily and it’s just a hot mess.

Somehow, though -- miraculously really -- she’s managed to not spill any drinks that morning and she’s planning on keeping it that way.

Hence: autopilot.

Pour milk. Steam milk. Queue espresso shots. Pour foam. Mocha!

“Mocha for Vladimir!” Smile and hand it off. “Have a great rest of your day, Vladimir!”

If she doesn’t think about it too much, she can keep it together. No spills, no mess, no stress - the perfect formula for success!

And it rhymes. Ha.

God she’s tired...

“Pick it up, sunshine, you’ve got a line.”

Emily tunes Stacie out, focusing on the drinks and the machines. Her hands hitting the cold brew tap. The ice. The lid. The customer. She’s got a good flow going. She’s in the zone and she’s going to keep it that way. Nothing can distract her.

Nothing. Literally nothing.

“I have a grande cold brew for Bec--” Emily snaps her head up, an automatic smile stretching across her cheeks as her girlfriend drifts into her line of vision.

Beca’s giving her an amused little smirk that makes her heart flip in her chest. God, she loves when Beca smiles like that. “Hey,” Beca says, and Emily can tell by her tone that she’s about to be teased. “Never seen you down here before.”

Emily pouts, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. “Jessica is sick and Flo is new, so shockingly I’m the best option.”

“Shockingly,” Stacie agrees, her elbow brushing Emily’s as she tries to get by. 

Beca laughs and Emily grunts. “I want to be offended, but she’s right.”

“Wow,” is all Beca says. But she’s giving Emily this  _ look _ , all teasing and sly, as she grabs her drink. Emily frowns.

“What?”

“Nothing, just…” Beca’s smile widens and she glances away before looking back. “You’ve got chocolate on your face, dude.”

Emily immediately wipes at her face and turns to glare at Stacie. “How long was that there and why didn’t you say anything?”

“Pretty much all morning and because it was funny.” Stacie raises her eyebrow. “Also, talk  _ and _ work, babe. You’re behind.”

Emily scowls, but begrudgingly grabs the next drink in her queue. She glances back at Beca while she waits for the espresso.

“So hey,” Beca says, clearly trying for nonchalance, but even distracted, Emily can see right through it. “You’re coming over after your shift, right?”

Emily bites her lip around a smile. “I can’t, Bec.”

Beca frowns, an almost-pout. “Why not?”

“I blew off that paper yesterday. I have to start it tonight.”

“Ugh. Just come do it at my place.”

Emily shakes her head, bemused. “No, then I won’t do it. Americano for Kit!”

Beca moves out of the way slightly as the supposed Kit grabs his drink. Then she moves back. “I promise I won’t distract you!” 

Emily knows she shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. 

“I’ll cook you dinner.”

She’s not going to. Really. She’s not. 

“Please?”

Emily breaks. “...Okay.” 

The way Beca smiles at her makes it worth it. The exhaustion, the paper, the bar-stress. “Yeah?”

Emily rolls her eyes at herself and gets to work on the next drink. “Yeah, okay. But you have to let me write, Beca, I’m serious.”

“I will, promise!”

Emily gives her a look. “Not like last night.”

“Uhh. Yeah. No. Of course not.” Beca’s cheeks have turned a cute pink and Emily feels warmth sinking deep into her bones. She wants to kiss Beca so bad, and by the way Beca’s smirking, Emily’s pretty sure she knows. Her hands unsteadily pour foamy milk into a cup and she quickly lids the thing, feeling flustered and flushed.

“Cool,” she says, her voice tight.

“Yeah,” Beca agrees. She gives Emily a pleased smile, all happy and soft. “See you later, then.”

Emily nods, returning Beca’s smile. “Miss you already.”

Beca’s eyebrows fly up. She taps the counter once in a clear goodbye gesture, a bashful expression crossing her face. “Cool, uh. Miss you, too. So. Um, text me when you’re off. Okaycoolbye.”

Then she’s gone, leaving Emily discombobulated in front of the espresso machine. She grabs a sleeve, trying to slide it on the cup of the latte.

“Wowww,” Stacie drawls from next to her. “Sex really  _ is _ that good, then, huh?”

Emily cringes in on herself, embarrassed. Her hand flinches of its own accord, slamming into the finished latte and sending it flying across the bar. It splats on the ground next to her with a  _ flump _ .

She watches in exasperated horror as a foamy puddle of hot espresso-milk begins to seep out of the cup, over the floor tiles, and, Emily groans, into her shoes.

//

Ten days before Christmas, Emily wakes up in Beca’s bed alone. 

She frowns and groggily reaches for her phone, wondering if for once in her life she managed to sleep in. She picks it up and -- ugh.

7:30.

Still too early. She slumps back into the pillow and lets her eyes flutter closed. Almost immediately, she opens them again, suddenly comprehending what she had known to be true the second she had first opened her eyes. 

She's alone in Beca's bed.

She lazily grabs for her phone again, but there’s just a few school emails and an Instagram notification, nothing to indicate why, for the first time ever, Beca had not only woken up before her, but had  _ gotten out of bed _ .

Emily grunts, thinking about how sweet it would be to sink back into the bed and fall asleep once again, but she’s awake now and her curiosity is getting the best of her. Sighing, she pushes herself out of bed and makes her way through the house.

Beca’s not in the kitchen, but there is a pot of coffee on, so Emily pours herself a cup to keep her company as she wanders from room to room. Unsurprisingly, Emily finally finds Beca in her home studio, headphones over her ears and fingers delicately working their magic over the mixing board or the touchpad or the whatever-the-hell Emily doesn’t know.

Beca doesn’t notice her, lost in her own little world, and Emily takes the moment to watch her, just for a minute. She’s still in pajamas: red plaid pants and a t-shirt of Emily’s she probably left there at some point over the past month and a half. Emily admires the sharp lines of her profile, the way her expression is so focused and serious, even as her eyes seem to sparkle with passion and enjoyment.

It’s special, Emily thinks, watching Beca in her element, knowing how privileged she is to have access to this part of Beca. Everyone gets to see the finished product, the music on the speakers, her voice in their headphones. But Emily gets to see this - the careful nudging of a bass level, the twitch in Beca’s eyebrows when she likes what she hears, the moment of complete stillness as Beca listens, eyes glazed over in concentration, to a playback she deems satisfactory.

Emily watches, stares really, completely captivated as Beca works. 

Finally, Beca must see her out of the corner of her eye because she does a double take and pulls her headphones down around her neck. She immediately smiles at Emily in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, palms cupped around her warm mug.

“Hey,” Beca grins at her, sounding eons more awake than Emily feels.

“Hey,” she rasps back. “You’re up early.”

“It’s  _ here _ ,” Beca gushes. She tilts her head and Emily follows the direction with her eyes. They stop on the shiny silver mic that seems to have become the centerpiece of Beca’s set up. “Merry Christmas to me.”

She  _ does _ sound excited, Emily thinks. Like Christmas morning. Emily’s swept up in it, even though she has no idea what’s so special. “Pretty,” Emily agrees. “What is it?”

“That,” Beca sighs happily, “is an AKG C-24.”

“Ooooh,” Emily gasps. “An AKG C-24. Get out!” Beca rolls her eyes at Emily’s fake but supportive excitement. Still, it’s obvious she’s geeking out. It’s endlessly endearing. “Looks expensive.”

Beca hums noncommittally. “Worth it.”

“Are you working on something new then?”

“Nah,” Beca shakes her head. “Just fucking around.”

“Mmm.” Emily drifts to one of the chairs next to Beca’s and sits down. She pulls her knee up to her chest and gestures at Beca to continue. “Well, don’t let me ruin your fun.”

Beca hesitates, eyebrows furrowing. “You sure? We can get breakfast or something.”

Emily yawns and shakes her head. “No, go ahead. I’m still waking up anyway.”

“Mmm,” Beca agrees, already turning back to what she was doing. 

Emily sips her coffee, sleepily watching Beca do her thing for the next hour while she wakes up. Sometimes Beca sings into the mic, no lyrics, just a few backing vocals to whatever song is playing through the headphones. Emily likes the lilt of Beca’s voice, the unique softness of it. It’s nice.

Emily’s thinking maybe she should go shower and get ready, get started on some paper planning, when Beca suddenly looks at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“You wanna try?”

Emily frowns at Beca’s fancy equipment. “I don’t even know what those things do.”

Beca’s lips twitch. “I mean the mic.”

“Oh,” Emily blinks at the thing owlishly. “You want me to… sing into it?”

“Sure, unless you prefer stand-up comedy.”

“Oh. Ha ha.” She rolls her eyes as Beca grins. “Um, okay, sure. What should I sing?”

Beca shrugs, shifting the mic toward Emily. “Anything. How about one of those Christmas songs you were belting out yesterday?”

“That was just for fun,” Emily murmurs, suddenly feeling self-conscious with this expensive and clearly special piece of equipment right under her nose.

“So’s this,” Beca says. Emily nods, hand tentatively reaching out to adjust the mic and Beca chuckles. “It’s not glass, dude, it won’t break. Well,” she amends. “You’re very pretty but I know you’re clumsy so keep it chill.”

“You’re hilarious this morning,” Emily quips and somewhere, beneath her waking awareness of the moment, she warms from the inside out as the familiarness, the domesticity, the casual remembrance of previous mornings and the promise of future ones with Beca teasing her like this fill her up. “Fine, um. I just sing then? No music?”

“It’s for fun,” Beca repeats. “Unless you want me to create a Spotify page for your debut single. It’ll probably go platinum.”

Emily snorts. “Maybe you should be the one considering stand-up comedy.”

“Yeah, I’d be a hit. They’d take one look at me and crack up. No words necessary.” Beca smiles wryly and Emily aches with feeling, that giddy infatuation that keeps reverberating in her chest. “Did you pick a song?”

Emily suddenly has forgotten every single song in existence. She racks her brain, thinking back to her Christmas playlist, but there may as well be like two songs on it because it’s all she can think of and one of them is a definite no-go because, unfortunately, she doesn’t have the range of Mariah Carey.

“Um, I guess.”

Beca shoots her a thumbs up and adjusts the level of something on the mixing board. “Whenever, you’re ready, then, future platinum artist Emily Junk.”

Emily shakes her head in amusement. She concentrates, trying to think of the lyrics in her head.

_ “It’s the most beautiful time of the year _ _  
_ _ Lights fill the streets spreading so much cheer _ _  
_ _ I should be playing in the winter snow _ _  
_ _ But I’mma be under the mistletoe.” _

After the first few lines, the lyrics come easier, the melody clear in her head. She chances a glance at Beca, her focus on the board in front of her, her fingers hovering over the beatpad like she’s waiting for a good spot to jump in.

_ “I don’t wanna miss out on the holiday _ _  
_ _ But I can’t stop staring at your face _ _  
_ _ I should be playing in the winter snow _ _  
_ _ But I’mma be under the mistletoe.” _

Emily’s into it now, letting the song fill her up, basking in how much she loves Christmas and singing. God, she loves to sing, no reservations. 

_ “With you, shawty with you _ _  
_ _ With you, shawty with you _ _  
_ _ With you, shawty with you.” _

Beca shoots her a look, exasperated, and Emily laughs so hard she has to stop singing.

“What the fuck is this song?”

“Oh, come on,” Emily says through her laughter. “You don’t know Mistletoe by Justin Bieber?”

Emily swears Beca’s eye twitches. “Justin -- Emily you could sing any song in the entire world into this beautiful, perfect, life-altering microphone and you sing --” Beca cuts off as Emily devolves into giggles. “Oh my God.”

Emily rolls her chair closer to Beca, away from the mic.

_ “The wise men followed the star _ _  
_ _ The way I followed my heart _ _  
_ _ And it led me to a miracle.” _

Beca grimaces, but it falters into a smile when Emily’s knees budge up against hers. “Ugh, stop this.”

Emily shakes her head, pointing to Beca as she sings.

_ “Don’t you buy me nothing _ _  
_ _ ‘Cause I am feeling one thing _ _  
_ _ Your lips --” _

She leans in, her nose brushing Beca’s as she sings softer.

_ “On my lips.” _

She kisses Beca before pushing off, rolling the chair back away.

_ “And that’s a very Merry Christmas!”  _ She belts back into the mic, loving the way Beca’s looking at her, disgruntled and enamored, like she can’t believe Emily is really doing this, like she can’t even fathom Emily is real.

Emily grins, singing the chorus into the mic again. 

When she finishes, Beca grunts, gesturing abstractly. “You didn’t even let me jump in.”

“Oh, I thought you were too annoyed at the song choice,” Emily teases.

“Well,” Beca rolls her eyes. “It still sounded good.”

Emily gasps. “Good enough to go platinum?”

“Oh my God, you’re so insufferable.” Beca twists her lips around a smile. “Just… just start over.”

“Beca Mitchell, are you trying to make Christmas-Pop music with me? And here I thought you were a Grinch.”

“Yeah, well, I’m your Grinch, so just…” Beca grits her teeth, clearly fighting off the blush creeping up her neck. Emily melts. “Let me have this.”

Emily chuckles. “Don’t you have a favorite Christmas song? Or an album?”

Beca scrunches her nose. “An album? Christmas singles are where I draw the line, okay? A whole album? What do you need an entire Christmas album for?”

“For fun?”

“It’s the same fifteen Christmas songs over and over.”

Emily snorts. “Okay, we get it. You hate fun.”

“I don’t hate fun, I hate beating an aesthetic to death.”

“Uh huh. Fun-hater.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Just start over.” She hesitates then -- “Please.”

Emily grins. “Okay, one cheesy Christmas song for making fun music with my Grinchy girlfriend, coming up.”

Beca side-eyes her. “Keep this up and you’ll never get me under the mistletoe.”

“Like you could stop me.”

“Oh my God,” Beca whines through a begrudging smile. “Just sing the song.”

After another good laugh, Emily does.

//

“Can you please turn it down? I swear to God, Jesse.”

“Becs, just because you’re a freak of nature, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to suffer.”

“Fine, then you need to stop at a gas station because I’m fucking parched.”

Next to her, Beca grunts, slumping down in her seat in the back of Jesse’s car. From the front seat, Jesse pointedly turns up the heat. Beca sighs and dramatically tugs at the collar of her shirt, repeatedly fanning herself. Emily has to hold back a laugh.

They’re on a “group outing” (according to Beca) slash double date (according to Jesse) with Jesse and Benji to drive around looking at the Christmas lights. The night boasted a cool 58 degrees, so Emily, Jesse, and Benji had bundled up in coats and beanies.

Beca, who is not an LA native and apparently had felt “real cold weather” before, was in a thin long-sleeve shirt and jeans. 

She hadn’t stopped complaining since the minute they’d slid into Jesse’s car and felt the heat blasting. Emily, for her part, doesn’t mind; it feels cozy in the backseat, snuggled in next to Beca.

Beca huffs grumpily and Emily twists her lips around a smile. She reaches over, her hand sliding over Beca’s thigh, her knee, into her lap until their fingers brush. Beca immediately tangles them together and turns away from the window to glance at Emily.

She squeezes Emily’s hand, smiling, and returns her gaze outside, but Emily can’t look away. There’s something in Beca’s expression that tugs at her. They pass under a streetlight, the green of it shining on Beca’s cheeks, and Emily realizes.

It reminds her of that night before Halloween, the movie night at Benji and Jesse’s. The glow of the TV on Beca’s face, just inches from her own. Beca had smelled like shampoo and popcorn, and Emily had wanted her more than she had ever wanted anyone before in her entire life. It consumed her to the point she couldn’t even watch the movie, this yearning to be in Beca’s orbit, to have Beca smile at her, to pull Beca in and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

But she had been tentative and hesitant that night, afraid of rushing things and ruining them too quickly. She’d only had the courage to shakily reach her hand out and she’d wished, with all her might, breath held, that Beca would take it.

Beca did not disappoint. She had tangled their fingers together, eyes wide and reflecting the movie on the screen. She had softened, relaxing into Emily’s side for the first time all night.

Now, Emily thinks, Beca’s eyes reflecting the green light out the window and reminding her of that night, holding Beca’s hand is second-nature. She may as well have never held anyone else’s hand at all, had never wished for anyone else’s affection, ever.

Emily had gotten her wish. She not only got to exist in Beca’s orbit, but Beca thought she, Emily, was the gravitational mass holding them together. She got to have Beca smile at her --  _ because _ of her. She got to kiss Beca until they were both breathless and wanting and satisfied, her head on Beca’s pillow, breathing in the same air.

Emily’s wish had come true and it was even better than she had hoped for.

Is this what love really is, Emily wonders, staring at Beca as they drive. Not the giddy infatuation but the feeling that this shared existence is better than you could have even thought to wish for?

She’s so lost in the thought that she doesn’t notice they’ve pulled up to the gas station until Beca’s squeezing her hand again and letting go. 

“I’m getting a Coke, you want one?”

Emily shakes her head numbly as Beca and Jesse get out of the car, already bickering as they walk inside.

From up front, Benji laughs. “They’ll drive you crazy, but you kind of get used to it.” He turns around to look at her. “By the way, I wanted to tell you that I’m really happy you guys are together.”

“Oh.” Emily offers him a smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s not too often she actually likes anyone,” Benji says, commiserating and teasing, like he’s letting Emily in on a secret. “They like her, sure, but… returning the feeling?” He rolls his eyes fondly. “She’s too cool for that.”

Emily snorts. “Yeah, she’s too cool for a lot of things.”

“Totally,” Benji agrees. “Except she’s totally not.”

“Yeah,” Emily laughs. “Totally not.”

“I’m sure you’ve figured out she’s a huge softie.”

Emily grins. “I may have noticed here and there.”

“Yeah, well,” Benji hums thoughtfully. “She won’t give that to everyone. I can tell she likes you more than the usual amount, so… If she hasn’t let you know, just give her time.”

Emily’s heart drops into her stomach. “I, um… Like her, too. More than, um… than the usual amount.”

Benji chuckles. “Yeah, we’ve noticed.” His gaze flickers out of the window and Emily follows, seeing Beca and Jesse walking back toward the car. Benji winks at her and turns back around.

“-- not as good as  _ Home Alone _ ,” Jesse’s saying as he opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat.

“And once again, I don’t care.” Beca rolls her eyes at Emily after she shuts the car door and Emily stifles a laugh.

Beca grins and wordlessly holds out a Sharing-Size pack of Skittles to Emily. Emily takes them, her entire body going soft.

“Share with me?” Emily murmurs.

“‘Course.” Beca leans into her side, grabbing her hand again. “Okay, Jesse let’s move. Before we all melt in this hot box.”

Jesse makes a snippy comment back at Beca, but Emily doesn’t hear it, too busy staring at Beca, a happy warmth burning across her skin, her heart beating an erratic melody in her ears.

//

“So, if you had to pick one, what’s your favorite part about the holidays?”

Emily hums. “Just one thing?”

“Mhmm.”

Emily twists her lips, thinking, as she drags a pastry bag of frosting over the cookie in front of her. Across from her at the island, Beca has completely abandoned the pretense of decorating in favor of sitting on a stool, watching Emily, and, periodically, licking the leftover frosting from the sides of the bowl.

“It’s hard to choose,” Emily says at last. “What’s yours?”

“Right now? These cookies.” Beca grins and swipes her finger along the bowl. It emerges, green-tipped, and Emily watches it disappear into her mouth. Emily chuckles, a pleasant fondness warming her chest.

“You could help, you know.”

Beca shoots her a look. “You know I’m garbage at this. Why do you want me messing with your famous cookies? I thought you had a reputation to uphold and with Christmas only five days away, it seems foolish to test it.”

“Mmm,” Emily snorts. “A convincing argument.”

“I mean,” Beca continues, tone aiming for nonchalant but just missing. “You wouldn’t want your family’s first impression of me to be disaster cookies, would you?”

“They don’t care about stuff like that.”

Beca makes a noise of disbelief. “Yeah, okay.”

“Really, they’re cool.” She considers it for a moment. “Maybe that’s my favorite part of the holidays. Everyone in my family is so busy that it doesn’t really matter that we’re all still in LA. We’re hardly all ever available at the same time, you know? So Christmas is a time when we can all get together. It’s nice. I miss them sometimes, even though I see them all the time.”

Beca gives her a soft look. “That’s cool. They sound nice.”

“After Christmas or New Year’s or something, you should come for dinner. They’re dying to meet you.”

Beca grins wryly. “Oh, told them about me, have you?”

“Of course,” Emily laughs. “I tell them about all the good things in my life.”

“Hmm.” Beca softens, glancing away. “That’s…” She trails off, cheeks pink. “I told my dad, I guess. He wanted to know what your favorite book is.” 

She rolls her eyes in exasperation but Emily can sense a fondness there, like when Beca talks about Jesse and Benji, too. She gives Beca a knowing smile. “It’s  _ From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler _ .”

Beca stares at her. “Is that just one book? Jesus.”

“It’s for kids,” Emily chuckles. “Read it when I was younger about twelve times.”

“Huh.”

“So are you excited to go home?” Emily asks. “All packed and everything?”

Beca shrugs. “Not going home. Just going to meet a client. I’ll be back Christmas Eve.”

“Oh.” Emily frowns. “Why did I think you were going home?”

“You assumed,” Beca laughs. “No, going home is complicated when your parents are divorced. There’s no winning, dude, not even if you take turns. Nah, it’s best to just do your own thing.”

Emily pouts. “So, you’re going to be alone on Christmas?! No, that’s messed up, you have to come over.”

“No” Beca shakes her head. “I’m going over to Jesse’s and stuff in the afternoon. It’s chill.”

“Oh.” 

“That’s nice, though. But also maybe Christmas isn’t like, the best day to meet your family for the first time. Holidays are complicated.”

Emily’s shoulders deflate. “I guess.”

“After the holidays, though,” Beca says. “If you still want that.”

“Of course I do,” Emily’s quick to say. “It’ll be fun.”

Beca drags her finger through the bowl again before licking the frosting away, her eyebrows raised at Emily across the island. “Mmm, well, fair warning, I’m not the best at parents.”

“Oh, please,” Emily playfully scoffs. “They’re gonna love you as much as I do.”

Beca pauses, her mouth opening. She closes it around a smile, glancing away. Then she slumps her chin in her hand on the countertop. “I don’t know how you can say stuff like that all the time like it’s no big deal.”

Emily hums happily. “I don’t know. I don’t have a filter. You, on the other hand, always do that thing you just did.”

Beca frowns. “What thing?”

“Like…” Emily sets the pastry bag down and wipes her hands on a towel, focusing on Beca. “Like skip over the first thing you want to say and go to the next thing instead.”

“Do I?”

“I mean, I don’t know, I’m not in your brain.” Beca laughs at that. “But it just feels like that sometimes.”

Beca scrunches her nose. “Are you about to start psychoanalyzing me with all that school knowledge of yours?”

“No,” Emily rolls her eyes. “I’ve just noticed it before.”

“Mmm,” Beca hums, going still. After a moment, she says, quietly, “maybe I do.” She shrugs. “I don’t know if I mean to do it, it’s just… maybe the first thing I think feels intense, and whatever comes after that is, um, in safer, less embarrassing territory. And usually, it’s funnier.”

“Yes, you’re a real comedian, baby.”

Beca grins. “I know.”

“Well,” Emily says airily. “If you ever feel like doing the intense thing, I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Beca laughs. “We’ll see.”

Emily places her fingers over Beca’s resting on the counter, squeezing. “It’s intense for me, too. I’m pretty into you, you know.”

Beca snorts, but she’s smiling. She flips her hand upward and tangles their fingers together. “Yeah, I know.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.” Beca’s smile is small but genuine. She leans forward and Emily meets her halfway. She tastes like frosting and sugar, so sweet Emily can feel it on her tongue. She sighs, so content and warm and wrapped up in Beca that she almost doesn’t hear Stacie come home until the front door slams behind her.

“Chloe!” She calls, and Emily jumps, breaking away from Beca to look toward the door. “Oh, hey Em. Beca. Have you seen Chloe? She stole one of my shirts and I need it back ASAP.”

Beca makes a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat at the interruption. Emily shakes her head. “She’s not here.”

“What?” Stacie puts her hands on her hips. “Then where the hell is she?”

“Christmas shopping, I think.”

“Ugh,” Stacie murmurs, already moving down the hall to her bedroom. “Girl is testing me.”

When Emily turns back, Beca’s raising her eyebrows, her finger slipping into the frosting bowl again. “See, this is why we hang at mine.”

Emily chuckles. “You love them.”

“Yeah, but they’re so weird and they have the worst timing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Chill in my room while the cookies settle?”

“Your closed door has  _ not _ stopped them in the past, if you’ll recall,” Beca grumbles, but she stands up and takes Emily’s offered hand anyway.

Emily grins and leads them down the hall. “At least you had a shirt on.”

“Mmm,” Beca sniffs. “A small comfort considering I’ve been here like five times and have somehow seen both of them without one.”

“Well,” Emily says, shutting the bedroom door behind her and nudging Beca back up against it, their bodies pressing together. “Then as far as this household goes, you’re three for three. Lucky you.”

“Mmmpf,” Beca grunts when Emily’s lips graze over her neck. “Lucky me.”

//

“Tree or lights?”

“Tree. Red or green?”

Emily hums, thoughts drifting from Christmas-related things and to one of her favorite Beca-looks, a forest green flannel over skinny jeans. “Green,” she says decisively. “Presents or stockings?”

“What kind of question is that? Obviously presents.”

“Stockings can have fun stuff, too!”

Beca snorts. “Sure. Ummm… Cookies or candy canes?”

“Cookies.” She lets her fingers run through Beca’s hair, thinking. She can feel Beca’s cheek press more comfortably against her chest and wonders if Beca can hear her heartbeat, the way it speeds up every time Beca’s fingers scratch lightly at the skin under her shirt. “‘Kay, uh… snowmen or snowball fight?”

“Hm. Snowball fight.” She can feel Beca grinning. “Now or later?”

Emily hesitates. “Uh… now?”

Beca sits up suddenly, breaking Emily’s cuddle-hold. She leans in and kisses Emily sweetly. “Okay, be right back.”

Emily lifts up on her elbows, watching as Beca scrambles off the bed and out of Emily’s room. She’s about to call after her, but almost as quick as she left, Beca’s back, her messenger bag over one shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Emily asks, pushing herself fully upright as Beca pulls her laptop out of the bag.

“Giving you your Christmas present.”

“Oh, now, huh?” She slides off the bed herself and grabs Beca’s present from her closet. “Fine, first or second?”

Beca sets the laptop on Emily’s desk, opening it and typing in a password. “Uh,” she hums distractedly. She glances at Emily, eyes flickering to the wrapped present in Emily’s hands then back to her laptop. She straightens up, facing Emily fully, teeth biting over a smile. “First.”

Emily chuckles and hands the gift over. “Okay, have at it.”

Beca’s fingers slide under the paper, careful and deliberate. Emily vibrates, wishing she’d just rip it off excitedly, but maybe Beca’s savoring the moment. Finally the paper falls to the floor, revealing a medium-sized box.

Beca glances at Emily one more time, face unreadable as she opens the box. She takes in the content, then snorts. 

“Is this present for me or for you?”

Emily pretends to be offended. “It’s for you!”

Beca shakes her head, grinning, and pulls out a bathrobe, followed by several bath bombs, bath oils, and bubbles. “Mmm… Are you sure?”

Emily pouts. “Okay, if anything it’s for both of us. But you can use them without me! You know, now that you like your bath.”

“I do like the bath,” Beca chuckles. She looks at Emily, expression softening. “Thank you. It’s perfect actually. Now I have something extra fun to look forward to when I get back from my trip.”

Emily beams. “Okay, because I really wanna try that Galaxy Bath Bomb.”

“Are you sure this isn’t for you?”

“ _ Beca _ .”

“Okay, okay!” Beca laughs and sets the box on the bed so she can pull Emily into a kiss. “It’s a date, then. Me, you, and the Galaxy Bath Bomb.”

Emily grins against Beca’s lips. “Cool. Can’t wait.”

Beca hums in agreement, pulling back. “Can I give you mine now?”

“Yeah, duh.”

“Duh,” Beca teases. She looks at Emily nervously. “So there’s like… a few parts.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a thin, square object. She hands it to Emily and Emily realizes it’s a clear, plastic CD case. The silver CD inside, like the ones Emily used to download songs onto in high school, has zero writing on it, nothing to indicate what the content might be.

“I… Oh no…” Emily frowns. “I don’t have a CD player anymore. Not even my laptop has one.”

Beca lets out a trembly exhale. “Yeah, that’s fine. I have the file here on my laptop, but just so you have a physical copy or whatever.” Emily watches as she hovers her mouse over a file, then clicks on it. 

Suddenly, a song starts playing from the speakers, a bold beat, a song Emily doesn’t recognize. Then a voice comes on, singing, and it takes her only one more second to realize it’s not just a voice. It’s  _ her _ voice, and she actually does recognize the song.

_ “It’s the most beautiful time of the year _ _  
_ _ Lights fill the streets spreading so much cheer _ _  
_ _ I should be playing in the winter snow _ _  
_ _ But I’mma be under the mistletoe.” _

Her voice, in high-definition, clear and soft and,  _ wow _ , she sounds  _ good _ . And what’s with that beat? It’s different, but… awesome. 

_ “I don’t wanna miss out on the holiday _ _  
_ _ But I can’t stop staring at your face _ _  
_ _ I should be playing in the winter snow _ _  
_ _ But I’mma be under the mistletoe.” _

Emily’s smile grows the longer she listens. 

_ “With you, shawty with you _ __  
_ With you, shawty with you _ _  
_ __ With you, shawty with you.”

Her eyes widen as another voice chimes in, singing the  _ with you _ underneath Emily’s voice. Her gaze jerks up from the laptop when she realizes it’s Beca singing. Beca’s watching her, lips pressed tightly together, gauging Emily’s reaction. But at Emily’s expression, she smiles, a pretty pink rising in her cheeks. 

As the song continues, Emily feels her smile growing, her skin warming every time Beca’s voice slips in under Emily’s, soft and low. By the final chorus, she’s nearly shaking with excitement and happiness and a giddy kind of wonder. 

It comes to an end and Emily can hardly breathe.

She inhales a quick gasp. “Holy crap.”

Beca chuckles, fingers tugging nervously at her sleeves. “Did you… I mean, you liked it, then?”

“Beca!” Emily’s so happy, her cheeks feel on fire. She presses her palms to them, still trying to process what she just heard. “You… Is that from when… When did you… Wow.”

“Yeah,” Beca shrugs, nonchalant, but Emily can see clear relief on her face. “I just, you know, put together what we did last week and after you left, I added the extra vocals and, I mean, it’s Justin Bieber so, whatever, but we sound pretty good, right?”

Emily finally lets her hands fall from her cheeks and she wraps her arms around Beca, squishing her in a hug. “We sound amazing, oh my God.”

Beca laughs against her shoulder. “Yeah. I… yeah.” She squeezes Emily once before pulling back slightly, still in Emily’s arms, but enough to look up at her. “Um, there’s more, but only if you want it.”

“I want it!”

Beca snorts. “Okay, look.” She steps back toward her laptop, but Emily doesn’t really want to let her go, so she wraps her arms around Beca’s waist from behind, letting her chin fall on Beca’s shoulder as her fingers glide across the trackpad of the laptop, pulling up Spotify. 

Emily curiously watches over Beca’s shoulder as she clicks on her own Spotify artist account. Emily takes it all in with interest. She’s never seen this side of it before. But there’s a place to see stats, uploads, published songs, probably more stuff, too, but she can’t process everything because she’s taking it all in and starting to realize... 

“Um, so…” Beca exhales sharply as Emily’s grip around her involuntarily tightens. She holds up her phone and Emily rips her gaze away from the uploaded song on Beca’s artist account:  _ Mistletoe (feat. Emily Junk) _ and the big, green button next to it that says PUBLISH.

Beca’s got her Twitter account pulled up, page open on the drafts tab, an unsent Tweet on the screen.

_ @becamitchell: Okay I gave in. Here’s my first ever Christmas single. Stream the @justinbieber Mistletoe cover by the insanely talented @emjunk. And I guess I helped. Happy Holidays, nerds. _

As the implications begin to sink in, the information on both Beca’s phone and laptop start to swim before her eyes. She blinks rapidly, trying to process it.

“It’s only if you want to,” Beca says, trying to look at Emily, but Emily’s still got her chin on Beca’s shoulder and Beca’s nose bumps her cheek when she turns her head. “I just thought…”

As Beca trails off, Emily can’t move, frozen with her arms around Beca, Beca’s nose still brushing her cheek, as realization crashes over her, the reason for Beca’s nerves. This is not just a silly, fun track, a casual gift to Emily that costs nothing. In reality, this present is very, very expensive, and the implications of that are washing over Emily in pulsing waves.

“If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine,” Beca backtracks when Emily hasn’t said anything in several seconds. She can sense Beca wants to pull away and she tightens her grip.

“I want to,” Emily says. “I was just trying to wrap my head around that  _ you _ want to.”

Beca stills. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Emily nods. She turns her head, taking her turn to nuzzle her nose into Beca’s cheek. “I mean, this is me and you together, right? On a public track.”

“Yeah,” Beca agrees. “So I know it’s a lot, like, people might… start to follow you on social media and speculate, and I know I’m not super harassed by paps compared to others, but it does happen sometimes, and… it can be a lot. I know that.”

“Mmm,” Emily hums, taking that in. “I think I’m fine with that. But are  _ you _ ? I mean, you told me yourself, you like your privacy. If they start following me on Twitter or Instagram or wherever, they’re gonna know we’re together, Bec. I mean, I can take stuff down, but I just think they’re gonna look into it. Your fans and stuff. They’re gonna know your business, you know?”

Beca sags in her arms. “Yeah, I… I know.”

“You don’t have to do this for me. Just to, like, you know, make me happy and stuff. I’m already happy and I love the track on its own. It’s sweet.”

Beca grunts and shifts, once again, to turn in Emily’s arms. Emily loosens her grip and Beca spins so they’re face to face. Her hands come up to lightly rest on Emily’s chest. “I’m happy, too. And maybe I sort of… want people to know that. Maybe in some capacity it’s for me just as much as it is for you. But<’ she hesitates, “really, only if you want to.”

Emily searches Beca’s face, looking for any kind of doubt or emotional facade in Beca’s expression. She comes up empty. Her eyes are a steadfast and certain blue, locked onto Emily’s own. “Okay,” Emily says, trying not to sound too eager, just in case. “I want to.”

A smile breaks over Beca’s face. “Yeah?”

Emily presses her lips to Beca’s, quick but lingering. “Yes.Take me Platinum, baby.”

Beca rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing. “Yeah, okay, then.”

“Wow,” Emily drawls as something occurs to her. “You just gave me crap for my present to you also being a little bit for me, when yours was also a little bit for you!”

Beca bites her lip around a smile and lifts up on her toes, her nose brushing Emily’s. “Merry Christmas to the both of us from the both of us, then.”

Emily’s reply dies on her lips when Beca kisses her. She sighs into it, finally letting the happiness she’s been carefully regulating flow through, overwhelming and strong. She tightens her grip around Beca’s waist, lifting her up slightly. Beca grunts but keeps kissing her, letting Emily pull her closer.

Maybe this is what love actually is, Emily thinks. This overwhelming, can’t-breathe whirl of emotion. The all-encompassing Beca-ness of everything, wrapping her up in a current and tugging her along. 

Maybe it’s the rush of blood in her ears, the heat of Beca’s skin under her fingers, the press of Beca’s lips to her own, so certain and steady and sure, that Emily aches with it all.

//

Christmas Eve finds Emily in her room, lying back on her bed, phone held loosely in her hand. Their track, now published, plays from her laptop on her desk, so low she can barely hear it looping over and over on repeat.

It’s background noise now, just there because their voices, so perfect together, make her feel closer to Beca.

Emily misses her. It’s been just a few days since they’ve seen each other, but yeah, Emily misses her like crazy. 

She sighs and restlessly looks at her phone again, even though she knows there won’t be any texts from her girlfriend. Beca’s currently on a plane from New York, and it will still be a few hours before it lands. 

Emily groans and lets her hand fall back down to the mattress.

“Knock knock.”

Emily lifts her head up as Chloe steps in her room. Then she lets it slump back on her pillow. “Hey.”

Chloe chuckles. “Don’t sound so excited to see me.”

Emily makes a sound in the back of her throat. “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wanted to see what you were up to.” Chloe hovers next to the bed for a second, then, in her obtrusively welcome Chloe-way, crawls onto the bed and lies back next to Emily, their heads on the same pillow, Chloe all up in her space. “So this is what you’ve been doing all afternoon.”

Emily shrugs. “It’s my day off, I’m allowed to stay in bed all day.”

“Totes,” Chloe agrees. “That’s just never really been your style.”

Emily grunts. “Feeling lazy, I guess.”

“It’s okay to miss her, but you shouldn’t wallow.”

“I’m not…  _ wallowing _ .”

“Sure.” Chloe’s tone is placating and Emily frowns but says nothing. After a moment, Chloe hums. “The song is pretty cool.”

Emily smiles. “Isn’t it?”

“How does it feel?” Chloe grins at her. “To live the dream every nobody in LA wants?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” Chloe explains. “Meet someone famous, have them fall in love with you and Tweet about you and include you in their exclusive little celebrity world.”

Emily thinks about it, then shrugs. “I guess. I don’t think Beca really considers herself in that world.”

“Maybe not,” Chloe agrees. “Still kinda is, though.”

“Yeah.” Emily frowns as something occurs to her. “I never really thought about it like that. What if… what if she realizes how lame I am? Like, she’s so talented and cool and I’m just, you know… a lame Starbucks barista.”

Chloe scoffs. “You’re not lame. And believe me, she doesn’t think so.” Emily makes a disbelieving sound in her throat and Chloe faces her. “Trust me. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. That girl thinks the world starts and ends with Emily Junk.”

Emily huffs. “Yeah, I mean she likes me, but-- ”

“Emily, she  _ loves _ you. She comes to our shitty Starbucks every day just to see you. Every time she looks at you, she’s like, starstruck. She put this song on her Spotify and Tweeted about it. ” Emily blushes and Chloe laughs. “It’s sweet.”

“The song,” Emily chuckles. “I get paid from it, can you believe that?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Emily shakes her head. “All I did was sing into her fancy mic. She edited and put it together and did a bunch of legal stuff for it. Like she did all the work and literally all I did was sing the only song I could think of at the moment. We were just goofing off. And now I get like, actual streaming money.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “Is that why you’ve been sitting in here and listening to it on repeat all day?”

Emily pouts. “I just like, can’t remember what I used to do on my days off before I spent them with Beca.”

“You spent them with us.” Chloe flicks her in the arm. “Duh.”

Emily frowns. “Oh. Yeah… I guess I did, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

Emily lolls her head to look at Chloe. “Oh God. Have I become one of those people who starts dating someone and completely abandons their friends?”

Chloe grins. “Maybe a little. But not totally. I mean, we hung out the other day. And I see you all the time. It’s different when we live and work together.” She nudges their knees together lightly over the covers. “Even if you had, we can see how happy you are right now. We’re not mad about it.”

“I’m…” Emily takes that in, letting out a deep exhale. “I am really happy,” she agrees after a moment. “Like… I know I’m overall a pretty happy person, but I really can’t comprehend being this happy all the time. But somehow I am.”

“That’s called love,” drawls Stacie’s voice, and both Emily and Chloe lift their heads to see their third roommate stepping into the room. “Hey,” she gasps, “Quit chilling in bed without me.” Without prompting, she slides in on Emily’s other side.

Emily chuckles, turning her head the other direction to look at Stacie now. “And what do you know about love?”

Stacie crinkles her nose and from Emily’s other side, Chloe giggles. “Excuse me. I know about love.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “How?”

“Well,” Stacie scoffs. “I happen to be in love, thank you very much.”

Emily blinks. “What?”

“I said what I said.”

Next to her, Chloe’s laughing so hard that the entire bed shakes. Emily pulls back to look at Stacie incredulously. “With who?”

“With… me…” Chloe manages to gasp out, laughter still spilling from her lips. 

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” Emily turns to look at Chloe, feeling like she’s giving herself whiplash. 

“Yeah,” Chloe says through a sigh, finally done laughing. She wipes at the corner of her eyes. “Whew, that was a good laugh. I needed that.”

Emily just stares.

“You good?” Stacie asks and Chloe nods. 

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Emily huffs, completely unsure which direction to look. 

“Oh, I guess,” Stacie sighs, tone nonchalant. “Chloe and I are dating.”

Emily’s mouth falls open. “Since when?!”

Chloe hums thoughtfully. “Since early November, I guess?”

“What?!”

“Chill, babe,” Stacie says, patting Emily lightly on the stomach. “We were going to tell you.”

Emily scoffs. “Um,  _ when _ ?”

“Well, we were still figuring it out, you know?” Chloe slides her hand on top of Stacie’s, both of their arms looped over Emily’s stomach now. “We didn’t want to like, mess everything up and then have you in the middle of a bunch of drama, so we were kinda just waiting to see how it turned out.”

Emily stares. “Okay, and?!”

“Okay, and so far it’s working out,” Stacie shrugs. “All these nights you’ve been spending at Beca’s have really given us the space to sexually explore.”

“We’ve always been really compatible as friends,” Chloe agrees, completely ignoring the distraught sound that had escaped Emily’s mouth at Stacie’s words. “But now we know we’re good as more than friends, too.”

“Oh my God,” Emily whispers, mostly to herself. “I can’t  _ believe _ this.”

Stacie snorts. “And why the fuck not? It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Because you’re both always going out and picking up…” She trails off, realizing that actually she hadn’t heard of either of them going out with anyone else since Halloween. “Huh.”

“Look, we know who we are and what we’ve been like,” Stacie says. “But we’re getting a bit older and we’re busier now and just… I mean. Chloe’s, like, thirty, so.”

Chloe sniffs petulantly. “I’m thirty-one and so what? People in their thirties can sleep around, bitch.”

“Yeah, of course,” Stacie agrees. “I just meant we want to spend less time thinking about that stuff now, and once you’re older, you know what you want quicker than you used to. You don’t have to spend the time looking anymore. We kissed and just knew it would work. That’s all.”

Emily lets that wash over her. “It’s just hard to imagine  _ you _ settling down.”

“I know what I want,” Stacie shrugs. “And settling down doesn’t mean I’m having less sex.”

Emily groans again, barely resisting the urge to cover her ears. 

Chloe laughs. “You’ve never had an issue hearing about our sex lives before.”

“Well, that was when it wasn’t with each other!” But Emily finds herself laughing. “No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just surprised. This is… really great news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Emily smiles at the both of them. “I’m really happy for you guys. I’m happy about this.”

Stacie grins. “Good because it was getting really annoying letting you think you were the only one in love around here. You’re so obnoxious.”

Emily’s mouth falls open. “I am not.”

“You so are.” Stacie gently pushes at her face and Emily whines. “All you do is gush about Beca this and Beca that. It’s gross.”

“ _ You’re _ gross.” Emily rolls over so her body flops on top of Stacie’s.

“Oh my God, get off me!”

“No!”

“Chloe, help me!”

Chloe laughs and moves, slumping so her full weight is on top of Emily. Emily grunts, her body sinking more onto Stacie’s.

“You both can eat my entire ass,” Stacie grumbles, voice muffled under both of their bodies. 

“Ew,” Emily grimaces at the same time as Chloe says “eat mine first.”

Emily groans.

//

“Caramel Brulee latte for Luis. Merry Christmas!”

Emily smiles to herself as she grinds the beans for fresh coffee. Over the store speakers, Michael Buble’s crooning about how it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. She hums along as she goes through the motions, swept up in the holiday spirit.

Working Christmas Day isn’t too bad, Emily thinks. People are usually in a good mood and it’s not too busy. Plus, she gets a lot of tips. 

She loads up the ground coffee and presses the button to brew it just as she sees motion out of the corner of her eye. 

She spins around. “Hi, what can I get started for --”

She cuts off, completely speechless, to see Beca standing there, in the flesh, and wearing a Christmas sweater.

“Hey,” Beca grins, like she knows exactly the effect this surprise is having on Emily.

“Hi,” Emily gushes. “You’re here! I didn’t think I’d see you today.”

Beca shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I figured I’d need a pick-me-up before I head to the boys’.”

“Oh, is that it?” Emily teases. “You came here for no other reason?”

“Yeah, that’s all,” Beca agrees, mouth lilting upward the slightest amount. Emily stares at her lips, transfixed.

It’s torture, Emily thinks. Not being able to kiss your girlfriend because you’re at work when you haven’t kissed her in five whole days and she shows up wearing the cutest sweater ever and looking like the most kissable person on the planet.

“Hey,” Beca laughs, and Emily crashes back to reality. “My eyes are up here.”

“Oh, ha ha.”

Beca grins. “What time do you get off?”

“Two. When are you going to the boys’?”

“Noon.”

Emily pouts. “Ugh.”

Beca chuckles. “Tomorrow I’m all yours. Promise.”

“Fine,” Emily sighs. “You want your cold brew?”

“Actually,” Beca starts and Emily’s eyebrows shoot up. “I was thinking something else.”

“Oh? Hit me.”

Beca peers at the menu, then back at Emily. “I’d like a peppermint hot chocolate.”

Emily gives her a skeptical look. “Hot chocolate? That doesn’t have caffeine, you know.”

“I know,” Beca says, expression playful. Emily doesn’t get it. 

“Okay…”

“I’ll have that, and uh, you can have this…” At this Beca holds her closed fist out and Emily, curious, extends her hand. Beca drops something in her palm.

Emily holds it up. “A… Hershey kiss?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods, smile growing. “The peppermint kind. So that while I’m drinking my peppermint hot chocolate, you can have that. And it’ll taste like Christmas, so. It’ll match up with what you’re thinking about anyway.”

“A Christmas kiss,” Emily says, eyes widening in complete awe. She beams at Beca, thinking of decorating the tree, Beca staring at her legs, those overwhelmingly addictive kisses on the couch.

Beca shoots her a soft smile. “Merry Christmas, Em.”

“Wow. It really is.” She punches in Beca’s order on the register and sends it through on the house, shaking her head in disbelief. “I put you in for a peppermint mocha. It tastes the same, but it has espresso, so. Caffeine.”

Beca laughs. “Okay. Thanks.”

Emily reaches across the counter separating them and squeezes Beca’s wrist. “Thanks yourself. And Merry Christmas.”

“See you tomorrow?” Beca asks and Emily nods. “Great. I’ll text you.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

After Beca’s gone, Emily unwraps the peppermint kiss and sneakily slips it into her mouth, marveling at how it actually really kind of does taste like those kisses on the couch.

Emily laughs to herself, a happy warmth filling her up from the inside out. 

She loves peppermint chocolate and she loves Christmas and, she thinks with a smile, she loves Beca.

//

“We really should buy actual champagne glasses,” Chloe’s saying as Stacie tips the champagne bottle over a coffee mug.

“For one day a year?” Stacie scoffs. “No way.”

Emily grins, holding out her own coffee mug so Stacie can pour the champagne. “I kinda like our way. It’s fitting.”

“And we have enough mugs for everyone at the party. I’m not buying, like, twenty champagne flutes. That’s just overkill.”

“Alright, alright, point made,” Chloe laughs. She looks between Emily and Stacie, eyes starting to do that soft watery thing that happens before she cries. “Wow, what a year for us, huh?”

“Oh, God, babe don’t  _ cry _ .”

Emily chuckles. “Maybe we should avoid a Chloe-toast this year. It’s my turn to do it.” She taps her mug against both of her roommates’, smiling widely at them. “To my best friends in the entire universe. No matter where we work or who we date. I’m always gonna love you guys.”

“My ride or dies,” Stacie agrees.

“Forever,” Chloe sniffles and wipes under her eyes. “Cheers, you guys!”

They all take a celebratory sip of their champagne and then Stacie tops them off. “Okay, let’s get these out to everyone.”

Stacie and Chloe each take as many mugs of champagne as they can carry, distributing them to the twenty-or-so people mingling in their house. Emily grabs her mug and another one, then scoots out of the kitchen, wondering where her girlfriend is.

She finds her in the living room talking to Aubrey. Emily takes a second to appreciate her - Beca’s wearing her hair straight and she’s got on that green flannel Emily loves so much. Her posture is relaxed, but Emily has to hold back a laugh at Beca’s expression, which is both incredulously disgruntled and bemused at whatever their manager is talking to her about.

“... why Madonna is arguably the best performer to come out of the twentieth century. It’s not really even an argument.”

Beca’s lips pinch together like she’s trying not to either laugh or say something extremely condescending. Emily’s not sure which, but she thinks it’s probably time to save both her girlfriend and her manager from each other.

“Hey,” she interjects, sliding up next to Beca. She hands her the second mug of champagne and snakes her arm around Beca’s waist. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh is it?” Beca looks at her with raised eyebrows. “I guess that means we have to stop this extremely fascinating conversation about ladies of the eighties. Unfortunate.”

Aubrey clearly sees through Beca’s sarcasm because she snorts. Her eyes flicker to Emily. “Great catch, Em. A musician who can’t even appreciate Madonna.”

Without waiting for a response, Aubrey offers them a stoic wave and heads off to the kitchen. Emily turns to Beca with a raised eyebrow.

“Please don’t harass my boss.”

Beca scrunches her nose. “Me? She’s the one who came up to me and asked about my music then started some kind of argument against alt-pop! It’s not my fault I have more modern tastes.”

“Okay, okay,” Emily laughs. “There’s only like two minutes until midnight anyway.”

At that, Beca looks down at the mug she’d been offered. She frowns and holds it up to her nose, sniffing. “Champagne?”

“We don’t have flutes but we have about a hundred mugs.”

“Makes sense.”

Emily’s estimation must have been a little off because at that moment, the music cuts off and someone turns the volume on the TV up, showing the replaying of the ball drop in New York. Around them, people start counting down from sixty, the last minute of the year.

Emily hums, reaching out to brush Beca’s hair away from her neck. “Before we leave this year and start a new one,” she raises her voice above the counting, “I just wanted to say thanks. The second half of this year really was the best and I’m really glad I met you.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad was it?” Beca smirks, playing off the compliment, but Emily can see her cheeks turn a soft pink. 

“No,” Emily agrees with a smile, the countdown now at thirty seconds. “Not too bad.”

“You’re gonna kiss me, right?” Beca grins, her free hand curling behind Emily’s neck. 

Emily doesn’t answer, just pulls Beca tighter to her, touching her forehead to Beca’s. The countdown hits ten and Emily nuzzles their noses together. She can feel Beca’s smile against her lips --

And then they’re kissing, the countdown still happening around them.

“FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Fireworks burst from somewhere outside, pops and snaps amid the cheers. Beca hums against her lips, her fingers warm and steady on Emily’s neck. Emily pulls back, breathless, her face hot, her lips still hovering against Beca’s, their eyes locked.

“Happy New Year,” Emily murmurs. “I hope it’s the best yet.”

Beca’s mouth opens, then she closes it. She exhales out a throaty laugh. “I love you, Em.”

Emily presses their lips back together on instinct -- and then the words hit. She pulls back again, a little further than before. “You -- Wait, what?”

“I love you,” Beca repeats, cheeks deeply flushed now. But she’s looking at Emily steadily, eyes intense and brave. 

Emily’s cheeks might be reaching their splitting point with how wide she’s smiling. “I love you, too. Like. God. I love you so much.”

She kisses Beca again, then grabs Beca’s free hand from around her neck and leads her down the hall. 

“Where are we going?” Beca laughs, trying to sip from her champagne mug while Emily tugs her along. 

“My room, obviously,” Emily replies as she drags Beca into her room. She downs her own champagne, then shuts the door behind them. The sounds from the party dull to a vague murmur and she sets her mug down on the desk. Beca puts her mug next to Emily’s, giving Emily an amused smile when she loops her arms around Beca’s waist.

“Wow, escaping to your room,” Beca teases. “That’s not very host-like of you.”

Emily grunts. “Well, I have some private business to attend to with my girlfriend, and she really values her privacy, you know.”

“Pfft,” Beca scoffs. “I’d tell you I love you in front of all those people, I don’t care.”

“Not the private business I was referring to,” Emily says, and with that she nudges Beca back against the desk, her hands drifting under Beca’s flannel and lips brushing over Beca’s neck.

“Oh,” Beca mouths, voice barely audible. “Mmmpf,” she grunts as Emily presses their bodies together. Beca’s practically sitting on the desk now, mugs sliding across the wood until they hit the wall. 

Emily kisses her way up Beca’s neck, to her jaw, her chin, her lips. She teases her tongue in Beca’s mouth, her entire body heating from the inside out when Beca lifts up fully on the desk, her legs wrapping around Emily’s thighs. 

Emily doesn’t know how long they make out like that, her hands wandering up Beca’s spine, Beca’s fingers in her hair, before she pulls back to breathe. 

“Okay wow.” Beca gasps into her mouth. “That’s… Intense.”

Emily pauses, her thumb catching on Beca’s hip. “Too much?”

“No,” Beca exhales. “Intense is good.”

They take a moment just to look at each other. Emily wants to soak it all in -- Beca’s flushed cheeks, the quick in and out of her chest as she catches her breath, the smile on her face, bewildered and happy and soft all at once.

This is love, Emily thinks suddenly. This frozen moment in time as they look at each other, taking each other in. It’s the easy trust in Beca’s smile, the safety of her arms around Emily’s neck, the adoration in her eyes. Emily wants to swim in this feeling until she’s drowning in it all.

“I love you,” she says again, giving Beca’s hip a squeeze. 

Beca’s nose scrunches when she smiles. It takes Emily’s breath away. “I love you, too.” She tugs gently at Emily’s neck, pulling her in for another kiss, soft and slow and reverent.

It’s probably Emily’s all-time favorite kiss.

Or, it would’ve been, if her door hadn’t banged open and interrupted it.

Emily jerks backward in surprise as she and Beca both turn toward the now-open door. 

“DUDE,” Beca yells, but Emily’s frozen in shock at the image of Stacie and Chloe completely wrapped up in each other. Stacie’s got her tongue in Chloe’s mouth and Chloe’s hands are tugging at the zipper of Stacie’s jeans.

Emily squeaks. Beca slams her hand on the desk. Stacie and Chloe finally look at them, eyes taking in the situation. 

“Oh. Wrong room,” Chloe giggles.

“No fucking shit!” Beca scowls. “Go away!”

Stacie shoots them a shit-eating grin. “Oh please, it’s not like you’re not doing the same thing we are.”

“This is Emily’s room! Go to your own!”

“Alright alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. If they’re still even on anyway…”

Chloe’s full-on belly-laughing as she tugs Stacie away. The door shuts with a soft and unsatisfying  _ click _ behind them.

“Oh my God,” Emily groans, her forehead hitting Beca’s shoulder. “Oh My God. Oh my God.”

“I told you the closed door doesn’t stop them!” Beca hisses, but Emily can feel her shoulders shaking with laughter.

Mortified, Emily finally lifts her head up. She sighs and kisses Beca one more time. “I’m sorry but that totally killed the mood.”

Beca chuckles. “Let’s get more of that champagne. I didn’t even get to drink mine.”

“Okay,” Emily agrees. “Love you,” she says again, just because she can and it hasn’t gotten old yet. She doesn’t think it really will.

“Love you, too,” Beca grins and slides off the desk. “But this is why we’re hanging at my place from now on.”

As Emily leads them back to the party, her fingers wrapped tightly around Beca’s, body still flush with love and wanting and everything Beca, she definitely, one hundred percent agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to just be a minific. idk how we got here. but thanks for reading. im still at emilyjunk.tumblr.com. stay safe, stay healthy, i love u


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